The Iron Children
by BaltaineShadow
Summary: We all know the story from Katniss' POV. But what about the other Tributes? 24 started the Games together, two survived. What did the other Tributes feel while competing in the Games? Even in their last moments... So I give to you, the Tributes of the 74th annual Hunger Games. And may the odds be ever in their favour. Series of one-shots, rated T to be safe.
1. Marvel

My name is Marvel. I was born and raised in District 1, which is best known for its luxury products. Of course, only the people in the Capitol take real interest in our products: They want to stand out, no matter how. In order to show our area of expertise to the outside world any maybe have a career, we have to look pretty and well-cared for as well. It's how you sell products: Wear them. Only to a certain degree, of course. We care about our looks and hair but cannot necessarily afford more expensive products.

Not that it matters.

Growing up in District 1 means, that you could be reaped and consequently die. Just as in any other District.

But we are not as poor as some of the other districts. Our products sell very well – as I said: The people form the Capitol are vain, so luxury products are most important for them. Nothing else is so much at the front of their minds than luxury products and how they could enhance their looks.

Our parents can afford to hire tutors, to train us in the art of killing and fighting. We hardly ever send a child under the age of fourteen to the arena. Our chances of winning are not as sparse as the chances of the kids from the poorer Districts, such as District 12. They hardly ever win. As far as we've been told, they only have one surviving victor and never had many more.

Not that I'd care.

Why would I? I want to win, to live a life in riches in the Victor's Village. Caring about the inevitable fate of my fellow Tributes won't get me out alive.

I trained since I can remember. As soon as I understood that I had to give it my all, that failing would mean my death, that slacking off would be my death, I trained, and trained, and trained some more. I do not want to die, so everyone else will have to bite the dust. Survival of the strongest, and all that.

Right now I am being transported up to the arena to await the start of the 74th annual Hunger Games.

I am excited, watching the clock count down is worse than I ever imagined it might be. Stepping off the platform to soon is not an option. The mines around us would blow me to pieces and all my ambitions to survive would have been for nothing. All the years I spend training to survive, to bring my accuracy with the spear up to where it is now... for nothing.

I count down the seconds until it starts.

45.

My parents are watching this right, as is mostly every person in Panem, except maybe those who have to work. Everyone sees what we do now, if we shake or cry.

20 seconds to go.

I try schooling my face into an indifferent mask. If I look like I don't care it will seem to most that I am confident in my abilities. Which I am.

5 seconds.

I get ready to run, tighten my muscles and crouching down slightly. I want a perfect start for the Cornucopia, where I will meet up with my allies for the time.

3.

2.

1.

I run, the air whips past my face. I don't care for the backpacks on the outer edges. I want the weapons further in... a spear or something like that.

I see a gleaming knife near one of a grate and grab it – a good start. Now... to even out the field...

The boy from District 8 runs vaguely in my direction, probably concentrating on some of the supplies nearby. Then he sees me and his face takes on a determined expression. He runs at me.

I remember him from the Training Centre. He had some good hand-to-hand technique, if I remember right and don't mix him up with someone else.

Which I don't. He tries to down me with an upper-cut, his stance speaks of confidence. The boy wants to take out one of us, the Careers, as we are called by the Tributes from other Districts. He should have concentrated better... instead of staring at the supplies it might have come in handy to keep his eyes on the competition.

I block his upper-cut, not as easy as I would have liked, but I block the blow. He looks mildly impressed – until his expression turn horrified when I slash his throat with my knife. He clearly had not seen my take it. Too bad for him.

I turn away from the dead boy and move further in, closer still to the Cornucopia. My knife finds a save place in my belt when I spot a spear and pick it up. I'm far better with a spear than with a knife, after all. As soon as I take up the spear I feel in my element. Now I can get going for real. I see a boy take an axe and topple him over. It's the runt form District 3. I take the axe from him and kick him in the stomach for good measure. The axe stays in my hand for now, along with the spear.

The girl from District 7 tries grabbing a backpack, not paying attention to her surroundings. I run at her and ram the spear in her chest when she finally, albeit far too late, looks up. Her eyes become wide and her mouth forms a little 'o'. I feel almost bad for killing her, almost. Still... I want to survive. I want to see my parents again.

I let the spear where it is, telling myself that I do it because it looks cool. I even grin a little. My sponsors will surely like that. They want blood lust. They want ruthlessness and they want us dead above all else. So I will give them deaths, bloody ones. And I will seem unaffected.

I take a new spear and look around. The others run around like chicken, grabbing stuff and running, dropping the stuff, fight, grab, repeat. A few have already vanished into the forest.

I spot the girl from 10 as she tries to grab a backpack. Well... she will not go anywhere. I throw my axe at her and hit her in the leg. She screams loudly and falls to the ground. The girl starts robbing away, trying desperately to get away. She has not yet accepted that she will not even make it to the edge of the forest.

I run to her, hop a few paces next to her, howling with laughter at her misery. She's even crying now. Pathetic. Can she not even die a dignified death? I happen to think that I'd die without crying, screaming and grovelling in the dirt. I roughly kick her in her side and she rolls over onto her back, whimpering pathetically. I raise the spear and she closes her eyes, tears roll down her cheeks. I stab the spear in her chest.

Slowly the adrenalin leaves my system. I look around. Only my allies are left, everyone else fled or is dead.

Oh well.

"Whoo!" Cato howls and waves his sword around. I grin at him and we high-fife. This whole thing is so far easier than expected, even if I did not expect it to be so easy to kill someone.

Clove and Glimmer come to us and we grin at each other. From behind the Cornucopia comes Zoe, the female Tribute from District 4. All seem elated and somewhat relaxed. We survived the Cornucopia!

Behind Zoe comes the boy from District 12, though. Which I did not expect.

At once all of us, Cato, Clove, Glimmer and me, bring our weapons back up, seeing as the boy has a spear in his hand. He seems nervous and Zoe waves at us.

"It's fine!" she shouts. "He can help us find the girl from his District and he's strong!"

She wants him in our alliance? Unexpected. Very unexpected.

"You sure?" Cato asks. His face is stormy and he eyes the boy like a piece of meat.

"Yeah." Zoe answers with a grin.

"And here I thought you were in love with her..." Clove grins maliciously.

"I am." the boy answers. "But somehow I still don't want to die, not even for Katniss." he looks down. "Only one can win. So... I guess I'd rather join you than tramp around alone and get killed early on. Why not join forces? Without me you'll never find Katniss. I know her and I know how she operates."

Cato shrugs. I don't care either way. As soon as the boy isn't useful anymore, I kill him. Preferably in his sleep, while he cannot defend himself. I remember how he threw that weight at the Training Centre like it was nothing.

"I'm for it." I say. Slowly the others nod.

"I'm Peeta." the boy says.

"We know." drawls Clove. "You're the Lover-Boy, tragically in love with Katniss Everdeen since forever – and now you will never have a life together, because only one Tribute can survive." she laughs cruelly and turns around. "Let's gather some weapons and go hunt. The Gamemakers will want to collect the bodies."

So we leave the bloody grass of the Cornucopia behind and enter the forest. If we're lucky we'll find someone and loose some more competition. Peeta tags along. He seems totally unconcerned that we will turn against him.

It makes me angry, oh so angry! How dare this no-one from District 12 to be so at ease while walking around with us Careers? Is he mad? Or does he really think he can take us on alone?

Now that I think about it, I have no idea what he can do besides throw heavy objects around as if they were weightless. He and his partner have been very careful not to show their abilities while we were training together.

Before the score had been announced revealing both Tributes from District 12 had scores around the Career perimeter I never even thought they might be tough. But maybe they had some talent. Zoe would not have tried to get Peeta introduced to our alliance if he were a weak talentless victim of the reaping.

But, hey! Who am I kidding? There is no way we will let Peeta Mellarck, the male half of the "Star-crossed Lovers", win this. No.

#-##-##-

We have wandered around in the forest for hours now. It is already dark, the Fallen have been announced a while ago.

"I never could stand Louis." Zoe muttered when she saw the picture of the boy from her District. "He was such a stupid little cry-baby! Not much of a Career in him." she then snorted while rolling her eyes. Cato grins again. He had been the one to off the boy.

"Hey..." Glimmer whispers a few hours before dawn. "There's a light up ahead."

Clove and Zoe start snickering while Peeta does nothing more than raise an eyebrow. "Seriously?" He then asks. "Who'd be stupid enough to start a fire in the dark?"

"Maybe it's your girlfriend." Clove says crossly.

"No. Katniss would never be this stupid. She's most likely hidden herself by now, preferably up in some tree." he even stares Clove down like it is nothing special. Totally fearless. I cannot stand this guy. As soon as he exceeds his usefulness, he's done for.

We sneak closer to the fire.

It's a girl – and she nodded off. She must have not gotten any warming supplies; she does have a backpack, though whatever was in there cannot have been of much use.

She only wakes up when Cato is almost on top of her, sword raised in the air, ready to strike down. She screams, but only once.

Glimmer laughs hysterically and imitated the girls high-pitched scream. "Her face! Hilarious!" tears run down her cheeks. I laugh along with her, not wanting to seem affected. But it does. I, and everyone else, put up a strong façade. Laughing we walk on, sure that she will die very soon. The cannon had not sounded yet.

"It's been five minutes. Why has the cannon not sounded yet?" Cato finally asks. He seems angry again.

"Maybe she's still alive... it might take her some time to kick the bucket." Zoe says carelessly.

"We won't go before the cannon sounds and she's properly dead!" Cato screams. His face goes completely red when he gets so angry. On some level it's pretty funny. On the other hand I plan to kill him while he's asleep. I don't think I'd be able to win fair in square in a one-on-one fight.

"Hey, Lover-Boy!" Clove calls. "Why don't you go and finish her? So far you've been pretty useless." she smirks at him.

"Yeah, whatever." Peeta says and turns to go back to the girl by the fire. I'm not even sure which District she's from, even though my memory allows me to tell who's who and which District they came from. She must have been so... invisible, that I forgot she existed in the first place. Shortly after Peeta left to go back the cannon finally goes off.

"As soon as we find his little girlfriend, we kill him." Cato whispers.

"Why do you think I brought him along?" Zoe whispers back and glances at him. He snorts. Glimmer grins like a shark and Clove cleans her fingernails with one of her throwing knifes.

When he comes back, his face says 'I'm bored with this whole situation.'

"Lover-Boy!" Glimmer greets him enthusiastically. "Well done! Now... if we could find your girlfriend this day would be even better than it has been so far!" she grins wildly.

"Katniss is long since gone. I told you, she knows how to hide. Without me, you'll never find her." he presses past my partner from District 1, his expression still bored.

I roll my eyes and turn to follow him. "Sure, Lover-Boy. Just make sure we'll find her soon." I call.

"Yeah." he calls back. "As soon as I see one of her traps I'll let you know."

Glimmer, Clove and Zoe snicker.

"Let's head back to the Cornucopia." Cato says suddenly. "We still need to go through all our new stuff."

"And sort it all. Weapons, food, water and whatever else might be hidden in all those backpacks and grates." Clove agrees.

It takes us almost two days to go through all of it. It is a lot – and most of it is useful. Though I admit that I cannot shoot with bow and arrow. But Glimmer took it and is confident that it will be useful to her. She's decent with the thing, at least. We decided to carry the useful weapons around with us, as well as some food and water.

And now we are back to going through the forest, searching for the other Tributes so we can kill them. We know where the male Tribute from District 11 has gone to, but non of us feels confident that we could take him down in the corn field. It is virtually impossible to see anything in the field and he'd sooner gut us one by one than we could find him. So we leave him there for now. Maybe we'll just burn the field down with him in it. But for now we are fine with searching for the others.

So far, we just run around without finding the slightest hint of anyone being alive.

Every time we see something resembling a snare or a trap Peeta runs to it and takes a look. So far non of the four snares we saw have been the work of his girl. He says her traps have an easier system – she works with the barest minimum and they work just fine.

"Do you smell this?" Zoe suddenly says. She has stopped and looks to the right.

"Smoke." Glimmer exclaims. We turn and run toward the smell. Someone must have started it. And the only persons alive in here are other Tributes!

A few minutes later Glimmer whoops loudly.

"There she is!" she yells. "Lover-Girl!" I look, and yes, there she is indeed. Katniss Everdeen, submerged in a pond to her chest. She takes one look at our approaching group and scrambles for the shore. Then she runs – but I can see her hobble every so often. She's wounded. Perfect!

And then she starts climbing up a tree. "Faster!" Clove screams and speeds up.

Glimmer readies an arrow to shoot Katniss out of the tree, she tries as soon as she stops beneath the canopy of the tree – and misses horribly.

The same goes for Clove and the knife the threw. Katniss is too far up for her to reach... it is more likely that a falling knife kills one of us.

"Give it here!" Cato demands and takes the bow and an arrow from Glimmer, aims at the girl in the tree – and misses as well. Angered he throws the bow down and starts climbing up himself, probably intend on throwing Katniss out of the tree himself, but the branch he tries to stand on snaps under his weight and he falls back down.

Suddenly we hear laughter from up above... Katniss. "Maybe you'd have a better chance throwing up your sword!"

Cato howls and Katniss laughs some more.

"Let her be." Peeta speaks up. We all turn to him, angered. He lifts his hands when he sees our faces. "She can't stay up there forever. She's bound to run out of food and water sooner or later. We can still killer her when she climbs down." That pacifies me – and the others, too, I notice. Cato turns and looks up the tree again. And if looks could kill, the tree would start crumbling to dust where it stands. As it is, the tree is still alive, Katniss seems quite content sitting in it and we set up camp beneath it for the night.

Zoe has started to collect firewood and Glimmer sets down some food. Cato plunges his sword into the ground and sits down, still grumbling and glaring. It really gets to him that Katniss got away again.

"Who do you want to kill once Lover-Girl is gone?" Clove asks once the fire is burning merrily and we all sit comfortable.

"The guy from 11." he murmurs. "I don't think anyone else besides him stands any real chance to harm anyone of our group." I do see him glance at Peeta, though.

"We still smoking him out?" Zoe asks while chewing on an apple.

"Absolutely. I won't go into that field. It's sure to be a death trap!" Cato throws back at her. She as seen the glance at Peeta as well and answers with a raised eyebrow. The plan is made then. As soon as Lover-Girl crawls out of her tree, Lover-Boy's life is over as well.

With a smile I curl up in my sleeping back.

-##-##-

A scream wakes me. I'm on my feet in the blink of an eye – and then it takes me another blink to start running from the tracker-jackers. Katniss must have dropped them on us while we have been sleeping. Glimmer screams for help – and I ignore her. I always would have ignored her pleading, since, at some point, she would have had to die anyway. As I said: I want to survive, to win, to go home.

And right now I run for my life while these vile insects fly after me – and Cato and Clove. I don't see Zoe or Peeta. Maybe they are dead. I don't care at all.

"There's the lake!" Clove yelps and and runs faster. I have been stung at least five times and start to see triple.

We jump into the lake without even slowing. I dive the moment I get in far enough. While I hold my breath I cannot stop hoping that the tracker-jackers will be gone when I have to resurface to breathe.

A few tracker-jackers are still there when my breath runs out, so I dive again. I have to repeat this twice more before they are gone.

Cato and Clove look horrible, both have stings in their faces.

And Cato looks murderous again. "Lover-Boy knew she'd do it!" he screams. "He was running already when the tracker-jackers started attacking!" He screams some more, then howls like an enraged animal.

He runs back into the forest. I look at the dripping wet Clove and shrug. Then I run after Cato.

It takes us hours to find Peeta. When he sees us he turns and starts running. Cato swings his sword and hits Peeta in the leg. Peeta simply keeps running, he completely ignores his wounded leg.

"Cato..." Clove sounds winded and drops to the ground. I can hardly stand myself – the tracker-jacker poison takes its toll on us. I would bet that all that keeps Cato running is his anger. He glances back – and his eyes simply roll back in his head. A moment later I, too, faint.

-##-##-

Two days later the tree of us are up and walking again. And we picked up another Tribute. He's useful, really. The boy is from District 3 – and he managed to re-arm the mines around the platforms we waited on before we could start for the Cornucopia. The area around our stash of supplies is now fortified and booby-trapped – only the four of us know how to get to the large pile of goodies.

The boy, Corbin, now has the sole purpose of sitting at our camp at the Cornucopia and make sure no-one steals from our stuff and to scare any idiot who dares approach our pile away again. His leg is injured from when he was wounded back at the Cornucopia.

"I think I saw something." Clove says suddenly. She points to her left. A boy suddenly breaks out of the undergrowth and starts running. Cato whoops and starts chasing him.

"Come on, boy! We just want to talk!" he laughs loudly when the boy stumbles and falls. He continues to crawl, unwilling to just give up. I see him clutching at his chest – he is hurt. And he does not have any supplies. It's a wonder he lived this long. "Hey! I remember you now, from the Cornucopia!" Cato crows loudly.

The boy whimpers softly and continues crawling. Clove throws a dagger at him and hits him in his calf. I laugh and merrily walk next to the crawling, crying boy. He's from District 10.

"Didn't I slash your chest open?" Cato prods at him and then viciously kicks him in the area he just mentioned. The boy screams and stops moving. He just lies there, turned over onto his back by the kick, and breathes shallowly. Cato laughs and lifts his sword. I put a nice little smirk on my face when the stabs the boy. The cannon sounds almost at once. Nice and clean. At least.

Clove is still laughing merrily and Cato cleans his sword on the boy's clothes.

Then we turn around and head back to the Cornucopia.

So far we could not find hide nor hair from Katniss Everdeen – and Peeta Mellarck is still alive as well. Both just seem to have vanished completely.

"I wonder where those two hide." I say to my allies.

"Probably hiding and making out. Star-crossed Lovers, my ass." grumbles Clove. Ever since the tracker-jackers stung her a few times her temper seems unbearable. I wonder how Glimmer would have taken it, had she not died. Or Zoe, for that matter. Both died back there.

"I hope something eats them, nice and slow." Cato snarls angrily. Maybe the people from District 2 are generally bad-tempered. Who knows? Both of them are horrible to hang around. But until the boy from 11 is history, they will be useful.

So far Cato has refused to light the field on fire. He wants Katniss and Peeta dead before the boy from 11. And of course Clove agrees with her partner. Corbin does not dare to breathe wrong while we are around, so whatever Cato says is fine with him. Spineless freak.

"Maybe they'll starve." I grumble. If it weren't for those two, my plans would be further along. I'd have killed Cato and Clover in their sleep by now and be the sole surviving Career. The winner, maybe. Damn District 12 and its terrible surprise.

"Hey! Corbin!" Clove calls and the boy flinches violently. He had been fumbling with something. He always does that. He likes building technological things, making them move or just explode. It's even more annoying than him agreeing with everything Cato says.

"Hello." he murmurs timidly. "No-one was here." he adds after a second.

"And otherwise you better scare them away!" Clove lays into him and Corbin hurries to nod.

."Of course!"

"Good boy!" I ruffle his hair like I would ruffle a dogs fur. Corbin blushes a brilliant red and we laugh at his expense.

"Cato, what is that?" Clove suddenly exclaims and I turn around. Smoke is rising out of the canopy. It's close...

We stare at the smoke for a few seconds, then run toward it. We don't have to glance at one another. We hunt down the Tribute stupid enough to light a fire with wet wood.

It only takes a few minutes to reach the fire – it rather looks like a pyre, actually. There is no-one there. Maybe the Tribute noticed how much it smoked and made a run for it? Anyway... he or she should still be close by, close enough to catch.

"Let's look around!" I exclaim and make my way around the clearing with the pyre. Clove and Cato do the same. The Tribute is still close, I am sure of it!

"Look!" Cato yells. A little farther away more smoke is rising into the sky. I stare at it for a second.

"Guys..." I say loudly. "Something seems off."

"You getting scared?" Cato sneers and starts in the direction of the smoke. Anger bubbles hotly in me at being dismissed so casually. He'll get what's coming to him. He'll never win this Games. I stomp after Cato and Clove's retreating backs, toward the second fire.

I know before we reach the clearing, that the fire burns in a neatly arranged pyre and that the clearing will be perfectly devoid of any life besides birds. No Tribute will be there.

I am right, I know it as soon as I hear Cato howl. That guy has some serious problems in self-restraint and anger-management.

"I told you." I whisper. I am sure this would not be the right time to rub it in. He's angry enough as it is. Casually I shoulder my spear and start walking around the edges of the clearing, trying to find some lead, something to tell me where the Tribute went. I find nothing.

But I hear a loud boom.

And explosion. The piled up supplies!

With wide eyes we run back to the camp. The ground where our amassed supplies used to sit is completely black, burned and charred. Corbin stands in front of the crater with a shocked expression on his face.

Cato starts growling as soon as he sees the boy. And he is on him in a flash, shacking him.

"The girl from District 5 tried to steal something, so I chased her off!" he squeals out. "The pile exploded while I chased her! I'm sor-"

He never got any farther because as soon as Cato hears him say that he was not there when it happened, he snaps Corbin's neck. The boy hits the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Cato is still growling and paces back and forth with angry strides. All our supplies except for what we have on us – gone!

"Cato..." Clove begins quietly. Her mouth is set in a grim line and her eyes are flashing. "I'm sure whoever did this blew up with the supplies."

"You think?" he grinds out.

"What else?" I throw in. "How would anyone survive this?" I stoically point toward the remains of the supplies. "We probably just didn't hear the cannon over the explosion."

The breathes deeply, then nods.

"Alright. Let's wait for them to announce the Fallen tonight." he is still as angry as he can be.

"Yeah." I say. "Let's wait down at the lake. They will want to collect the body of … him." I point at Corbin.

Clove and Cato nod. We pick up what supplies can be saved and go to the lake.

It takes forever for night to fall.

And even longer for the trumpets to start blowing to notify us that the announcement starts.

The pictures of the boy from 10 flashes up first. Then Corbin. Then nothing. The one who exploded the supply pile is still out there.

Cato does what Cato does when he is angry: He screams. And then some.

Clove and I wait patiently for him to stop. "Let's go to those pyres." I say. "There have to be two of them, at least. If we catch one, we can lure the other one to us and kill both."

"Yes, let's do that." Clove chimes in.

We track back into the forest. First pyre one, then past pyre two. Around for a while, quietly. It's completely dark, but we move on. Stopping now might make Cato explode.

"Maybe it was the 'Star-crossed Lovers'". Clove whispers. "Wouldn't that be great? Finally getting rid of them..."

"Yeah." I whisper back. To finally get rid of them. They've both been more trouble than they are worth. Deep down I'm still sore that the bitch took out Glimmer. I'm sure she died slowly and painfully. At least I kill them fast!

"Will you look at this!" Cato suddenly exclaims and abruptly stops walking. Another pyre! This one is untouched...

"Maybe they'll meet up here?" I whisper.

"Probably." Clove agrees.

"And maybe they won't!" Cato snaps. "Let's keep moving."

"I'll stay." I say. "I'll set a trap – and who knows? Maybe I'll get lucky and can kill Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellarck!" I laugh quietly.

Cato scowls at me. "You stay, don't come back."

"Fiiiiine." I drawl. "We would have had to split up sooner or later, anyway. It might be better to do it now." He nods and Clove shrugs.

"Good luck then, Marvel. May the odds be ever in your favour!" she grins at me before turning away and walking further into the forest. Cato just grunts and goes after her.

I look around and decide to set my trap on the other end of the clearing, away from the other pyres. I'd enter the clearing from there.

I pull out a net and lay it carefully on the ground before attaching a rope. A little trap never hurt anyone before... I throw a generous amount of fallen leaves over the net and go hide in the undergrowth. The first person to step onto my contraption will get pulled up, hopelessly entangled in the net. An easy kill.

I hope it will be Katniss.

It takes hours for the day to start. And even then I keep lying beneath the bush I took cover under and wait. I am nothing if not patient. The morning is almost over when I hear a twig crack under someone's boot. Right in front of my trap. Perfect.

What I do not expect, is the little dark-skinned girl from District 11 to step out from the bushes. She looks around fearfully and whistles softly. Surprisingly, the birds pick up on her song and carry it farther away. Nothing happens for a moment – and then she cautiously takes a step forward. Onto my trap. In seconds she dangles above the ground. As soon as she realises what happened, she screams in fear.

"Look at that!" I hear behind me. I whip around. Cato and Clove stroll into sight, both smirking.

"See." I say. "I told you I would catch myself something!" I sound triumphant, even though I am still disappointed that I did not catch Katniss.

"I'm surprised." Cato says. "I would have thought common sense would prevail and non of them would return to the evidence." it's the longest sentence he said in the whole time I know him. And the one with the biggest words in them. Maybe Cato is not as stupid and brutish as he lets on...

"Well..." I drawl. "Common sense is not something everyone has to spare. Some only have a little and have to make use of it their whole lives. Maybe she was saving it up?"

Both laugh.

"Well," Clove says after a moment. "Have fun then! We were just passing through – and generously decided to not attack this once. We had a lot of fun together, after all."

"How considerate of you!" I say jovially. "Let's hope we won't meet for a while!"

"Yeah! Until then!"

As casually as they came, they leave again. I turn my attention back to the little girl.

"I really, really expected someone else." I tell her, smiling from ear to ear. I use my spear to turn her in her net, tangling her up as much as possible. Then I cut the rope that keeps her suspended in the air. As much as I would like some target practice to vent some anger, I do pride myself to be merciful. And she is still a little girl. A shame she has to die so young.

She falls heavily and whimpers softly as a consequence. Tears stream down her face and her dark eyes are impossibly wide.

They make me hate the Capitol, not that I would let them know. I have a reputation to uphold: I am Marvel, Career Tribute from District 1, and I am loyal to the Capitol.

A soft tune whispers past us, not the one she had whistled earlier, another tune.

Her eyes go even wider. Her mouth opens.

"KATNISS!" he screams at the top of her lungs. So she had teamed up with Katniss Everdeen after all. I will get to kill Katniss!

"KATNISS!" the girl yells again.

"RUE!" comes the answering shout from the direction of the second pyre.

I lift the spear high above her and close my eyes. I don't want to see her eyes when I spear her. I hear Katniss burst through the undergrowth.

"RUE!" she screams, just as I thrust the spear into the girls stomach.

"NO!" I hear Katniss's agonised scream, and Rue's pitiful gasp.

Then, when I open my eyes, I see my death. Katniss has Glimmer's bow and arrow.

I realise that the weapon was not meant for Glimmer, but for Katniss Everdeen. For her. Her arrow hits my throat and I feel light headed at once. She must have hit the jugular. Desperate to get some air into my frozen lungs I clutch at the arrow and pull it out slowly and painfully. The arrowhead does more damage when I pull it out then when it went in. I notice that too late as well. My legs give out as shock sets in and I crumple to the ground.

I hear Katniss murmur Rue's name while I look at the sky. The leaves seem greener than they have been a moment before.

I won't win this Games.

I won't win anything anymore. I see my parent's faces when they send me off to the Capitol: They have been full of hope. I could have won.

But I did not.

I close my eyes and the world goes dark.

I was Marvel, Tribute from District 1 for the 74th annual Hunger Games. I won't be remembered, I know. No looser ever is.


	2. Glimmer

I'm Glimmer.

I'd like to think that I live up to that name, that I sparkle from inside and charm everyone, naturally.

I always had many friends in my District, be it in the neighbourhood I live in with my parents and an older sister, Leonora, called Leo, or in the Centre I train in so I might survive the annual Hunger Games should I be the one reaped.

We used to joke about it in the hope to lessen the horror of it all. It never really worked, but we were nothing if not persistent in trying.

And now here I stand, between Anabelle and Lavinia, my two best friends, and watch as the guy from the Capitol puts his hand in the reaping ball which holds the names of us girls. Anabelle reaches for my hand. Our faces don't betray our feelings anymore, like they did when we were smaller and afraid to be drawn. Of course, we live in District 1, so if a small kid gets reaped, one of us older kids volunteers. We have more years of training under our belts and better chances to make it back here alive – we are Careers and the people living here are far better off than most other people from other Districts. We sell luxury products, something the average Capitol Citizen would kill for. It allows our parents to prepare us in case we actually have to go to the arena one day. We are tightly knit as a community, so of course no small child will be send to his or her death.

It does not mean that we are not nervous anymore. We have just gotten better at hiding it.

The guy pulls his hand out of the reaping ball and proudly shows his silent and tense audience the sealed envelope. Anabelle shudders slightly, as she does since I can remember.

"This years female Tribute of District 1 is..." the Capitol-guy says with his nasal accent that makes me want to retch. "Glimmer!"

My whole world stops and my ears are seemingly filled with cotton. I gulp, once. Then I let go of Anabelle's cramped hand and step out of the row I have been standing in. My fine, blond hair cascades around my face and shields its features for a small moment. It is all I need.

When I look up and see my face in the camera, I have put on a bright smile. I give a little wave and the Capitol-guy greets me enthusiastically. I am being a good sport and all. Happy for my chance to shine.

I relax my stance and wait next to him, while he puts his hand in the reaping ball of the boys. He rummages around for a little, every gesture overdone and horrifyingly fake. His hair is dyed a poisonous green and arranged in little locks. He has feathers of the same colour glued to his eyelashes. They never understood that our products should be applied one at a time. Too much... and voilá: Parrot.

"And the male Tribute from District 1 for the 74th annual Hunger Games is..." he simpers once more. "Marvel!"

He looks so proud of himself for having finished this first part of the Hunger Games, I actually start feeling sorry for him. I wonder what it is like to pursue a career in announcing death candidates, under-aged ones at that.

I watch as a tall, lanky boy makes his way to the stage, grinning proudly and waving at the camera.

The Games have already started. We know the drill, here in District 1.

Train to survive from an early age, get chosen, smile, wave, put on a good show.

Most of us don't train with weapons only. We learn how to act and lie as well. This skill is as important as knowing how to kill other human beings. Getting people to like us can mean the difference between living and dying in the arena.

I am pretty. I know it. I can be whatever the audience wants me to be. I am Glimmer, after all.

-##-##-

I don't have to wait long for my family to arrive. They are there before I can start to properly worry about how my fate might turn out. I keep telling myself to keep a positive mindset.

I'm not dumb, I know how to use weapons, how to make fire. I know that I will be part of an alliance of Career Tributes, as it has been since the Games were started to punish the revolting Districts.

I will bide my time – and then strike.

I will win.

"Glimmer!" my mother glides to my side and wraps me in her arms. "My little girl!" forgotten are my skills with the bow and the sword. I am back to being a little child. She is frightened. As are my normally stoic father and my aloof older sister.

"Mother." I say. "Don't worry, I know what to do. All the training certainly paid off." I am being as brave as I can be. I even smile.

"I know, I know!" she whispers in my hair. "And still. I am your mother and it is my prerogative to be afraid for you." I nod slightly.

"I know, mother."

"Mother." Leo says just then. "Be confident in Glimmer's abilities. She is a feisty one." She laughs at the expression on my face at being called 'feisty'. No-one can make me show my feelings as easily as Leonora. I stick my tongue out at her. She laughs some more. My father smiles a little. It is unexpected, but I will treasure this one last moment I had with them before my departure. And my father's smile. I hardly ever see him smile. Living in one of the Districts of Panem got to him over the years. My mother once told Leo and I, that being part of the Reaping didn't get to him as much as my sister being born. She told us, that he only ever realised what the Hunger Games could do to our family. That they could take his children away, kill them.

We celebrated the day Leo's last Reaping had come and gone without her name being drawn.

There would be no celebration tonight. Tonight would only be about fear, I could see it in the faces of my family.

"Don't worry!" I say, as cheerfully as I can. "I will be back before you know it. And then we can celebrate!"

I hug them, one by one, slowly, I savour the moment. This last one I might ever have with my mother, father and sister.

Suddenly the door slams open. "You have to leave now." the Peacekeeper says without any emotion in his voice.

My mother sniffles a bit and my father takes her in his arms. Leo gives me a last week and slightly watery smile, then she, too, is gone.

I sit alone in the room and wait for Capitol-guy to come and fetch me, or whoever else might come for me. While I wait I comb my hair with my fingers while staring out of the window. It has bars, I notice. As if someone might try to run. There is no place I could run to, don't they know that? We are Tributes now, running might get our District destroyed and everyone we hold dear killed. No. There is nowhere to run to.

It takes almost twenty more minutes before another Peacekeeper comes in. I have braided my hair in ten different styles by then. It took me that long to decide how I want to look when I board the train.

I smile winningly at him and he even smiles back. He doesn't say a word, he know that I know what he wants. I follow him with a spring in my step – I practised walking this way for years, how to seem happy even when I am scared and devastated.

I cannot keep wondering about what the competition might be like, I have started wondering the moment I started combing my hair with my fingers. I have no recollection of ever having met Marvel. The Tributes from District 2 and 4 are always strong, just like the Tributes from my District. We are the Careers, all of us. In contrast, the kids from District 11 and 12 hardly ever win. They are half-starved and never held a weapon in their whole life.

Capitol-guy is waiting in front of the train. All around him are reporters holding cameras and microphones, hoping to get a good shot of Marvel and I.

I am glad I trained to look excited. So very glad.

I cannot imagine that there might be anyone truly excited to be in my place. It is a position with the worst possible odds against me. 23 of the kids starting for the Capitol today will be dead in two weeks time.

-##-##-

I cannot say that I enjoyed the train ride. Somehow I always imagined the train ride to the Capitol to be amazing, wonderful and exciting.

It wasn't.

All I feel is unsettled and annoyed. Capitol-guy simply cannot shut up about the wonders of the Capitol and its amazing people.

Let's face the facts, though: My District produces all those shiny luxury products. I know they don't look amazing and great. They are freaks, dyeing their skin various shades of red, blue, green or whatever else suddenly catches their fanciful taste. And if they go totally overboard with their bodies I simply do not want to imagine what their homes might look like.

I do not like the food either, I noticed. Everything seems overdone and exaggerated somehow. Nothing is... _normal_.

I just want to win this and go home, I already try to forget.

I have decided to concentrate on some last-minute training in the week before the Games start. Anything to ignore the Capitol and its inhabitants.

When the train pulls into the station I see freaks everywhere. They look worse than I ever dared to imagine. Practising to smile winningly was indeed a very, very good idea. Otherwise my disgust would be plain to see and a death warrant for me would most likely be printed right now. I wave at the photographers and make some poses while we are walked to the entrance of a building. They seem to like Marvel and me – well... they always like the kids that are led to the slaughter for their amusement.

I don't think I was this sarcastic a few days, no hours ago. Being chosen as a Tribute, it changed me instantly. And so completely.

Until those weird persons started scrubbing me so thoroughly, I never thought I was filthy. I must have been very dirty, though, downright covered in it. I think I was washed and rinsed at least three times. I never smelled more like a flower either. I think I am so squeaky clean that I must reflect the light.

The costume is sparkling – Luxury, it is our fate to glitter. I laugh outright on the carriage ride, imagining how Marvel and I blind those horrid people who scream for the blood of children to be spilled and have done so for the last 74 years now. I wave at them while I try tuning down my laughter before Marvel can glance at me and tell me to stop it. Inside I am in hysterics, outside I am seemingly overjoyed to be a Tribute for my District.

I am not overjoyed. I secretly wish I was home, safe, watching someone else ride the carriage. A moment later I am ashamed of me, wishing this fate on some other kid.

-##-##-

The training is as I hoped it would be: far easier than my normal level.

I don't have to show everything I can do. Just a little, enough to seem to be interested in what those instructors prattle on about.

From a corner, while I supposedly take a break, I watch a red-headed girl that distinctively reminds me of a fox beat every mind game they throw at her in minutes. The instructor stares at her with an unbelieving expression on his face, as if he cannot believe that someone with such a great mind – for there is no doubt in me that this girl is exceptionally bright – could be born into one of the 12 Districts.

Brains alone won't win the Games, though. If her mind is her only asset for this, she won't survive. Not that I'd let her win. That would mean me dying and not seeing my parents and my sister again, not to mention my friends. They must all be so nervous for me, so frightened.

There are two very young children as well. A boy and a little dark-skinned girl. The girl has a knack for climbing, and she's as quiet as they come: I saw her sneaking behind Cato, the boy from 2, and steal his knife while he wasn't watching. And before he noticed her, she was gone again. Hidden up beneath the roof in the area meant for climbing exercises, grinning while Cato starts attacking the boy from District 6, assuming the boy took his knife simply because he stood closest to Cato when he noticed the absence of his knife. That guy has no sense at all, only anger and them some more of that. "I'll get you for this, just you wait!" Cato screams, his face all red. "You'll die!" the boy's eyes are wide and full of fear. Then he jerks around and runs off. Cato screams some more. I suspect this is his way of talking in full sentences.

"This is gonna be good!" I say loudly and laugh a little. We already decided to team up, District 1 and 2, I mean, and Zoe, the girl from District 4, Zoe came with the other little runt, Louis. She says he does nothing but cry as soon as they are in their quarters. She is more than annoyed with the brat and sure as hell does not want him included in the Alliance. We promised to do the job for her: None of us would have to potentially live in the same District as the parents of the boy and endure their accusing stares.

The boy from 12 tries his luck with the monkey-bars and falls down rather heavily. It looks hilarious and Marvel, Zoe, Clove, Cato and I almost fall over laughing. "He'll be easy!" Clove whispers to us excitedly. Zoe grins her shark-grin while all of us stare at the boy. He throws us weary glances when the girl from his District crouches down at his side and whispers in his ear. He whispers back and she shakes her head.

Cato laughs and plays with his knife – another one, since he could not find his first one again.

This action seems to help the boy with his decision. He gets up and walks to the weights... he picks the heaviest one and Marvel already starts guaffing, fully expecting him to drop it again after a second or two. He doesn't. He throws the damn thing almost through half the hall, like it was nothing. He looks after it for a moment, then shrugs non-committally. Unaffected.

I stare after him. How unexpected! If he can do this with a weapon, then I might have to re-evaluate his standing in this Games.

-##-##-

I feel sick. I've never, not even the one time I ate grass as a dare, felt this sick before.

I'm shaky, my skin is clammy and cold, my eyes were impossibly wide when I saw my reflection in the gleaming sliding door of my elevator to the arena. Goosebumps break out all over my body, even in my face.

In a minute or two I will have to kill other children, children who want to be here as much as I want: meaning not at all. We have no choice, though.

It will be kill or be killed.

I want to see my parents and Leo again. And my friends, Anabelle and Lavinia. I do not want to die – and I do not want to kill anyone either. I am stuck between a brick wall and a rock, it seems. Little to no movement is possible anymore.

My wish to go home is stronger as my fear of seeing the spark leave the eyes of another kid.

Eventually I will need to find the strength to rid myself of the competition, no matter how.

I was as impressive as I could for the Gamemaker in my individual session. I used a bow and an arrow and hit the target each and every time – far closer to the centre than I ever managed in training back home. And I threw some knifes around – although I am not as spot on with throwing knifes as Clove, I am pretty good. I have knowledge of the use of almost every weapon and can wield most of them well enough to be a dangerous enemy.

I try to plaster a determined expression on my face and not let my nerves show. I am on TV, life, in every single District. I need to look like I can win, or I will not draw sponsors.

The platform beneath my feet begins to move suddenly. The door slides shut with a soft hiss – and now I am all alone in this narrow tube. Pictures of a sudden power shortage pop into my mind and I see myself stuck in here for hours... I bite my lip to try and keep my focus, somehow. I cannot arrive in the arena as a nervous wreck. That might mean a one-way ticket in the afterlife.

I close my eyes and start breathing in and out very slowly and deliberate, just like my teacher back home told me to. I imagine my parents three weeks ago: Mom making lunch, Dad coming home from work. Leo giggling with her friends, Anabelle and Lavinia, joking with me and comparing the boys from the training centre to see who would possible be able to win the Games.

My mind calms.

I can do this.

I want to see those dear faces again. No matter what I will have to do in order to reach this goal. No matter how mad and depressed I will be when I finally come home again, my family and friends will be there for me. I won't be alone – and I will never have to worry about being drawn as a Tribute again, I will be free, truly free. I will not even have to find a work – Tributes turn some hobby or the other into a semi-profession and the things they create sell quite well in the Capitol. All of them want a piece of a Tribute, even if that piece turns out to be only a handkerchief.

The platform stops moving as suddenly as it has started its movement a moment before.

My eyes snap open and I scan my surroundings. In a minute I will run for the Cornucopia, until then...

A field to my left, next to it a lake. Straight ahead I see a dense forest. Many places to hide, a lot of ways to die.

Almost at the entrance of the Cornucopia I see a bow and some arrows. I really must have impressed the audience with my individual performance! They gave me a bow! I grin and look around for my allies. Marvel stands a few places to my right, I cannot see Zoe. Cato is just visible before the Cornucopia gets in the way of my vision. Clove is to my left, three places away. She sees me looking around and sends me a smirk which I return in kind.

10 seconds to go.

I would hate to stumble down here before then. I'd be pretty pink mist in the air were the explosives around me to be set off.

5 seconds.

I crouch low, ready to run.

3.

2.

1.

I jump off, my muscles propel me forward, to the opening of the Cornucopia. No-one gets into my path. I am very fast, or so I've been told time and time again.

A dagger catches my eye and I grab it quickly. I switch to a reverse grip, which is better for slashing at people, and take a quick look around.

Time to even the field a little.

I see the girl from District 6 try and take a bright yellow rucksack off the ground while simultaneously grabbing for a bottle of water. She stumbles a little – an I make up my mind. I run into her direction, the grip on my dagger still in reverse, and grab the first part of her I come into contact with. It happens to be her hair, thick black locks, pulled back into a pony-tail almost down to her mid-back. I pull those locks back fiercely.

The girls screams, eyes wide with terror. She pulls forward as hard as she can and I almost loose my footing because she jerked forward so suddenly. I pull harder, and her head is yanked back, baring her pale throat. I switch the grip I hold on the dagger and ram it into her unprotected side. Her mouth opens wide and a thin sound escapes. I switch back to the reverse grip, suddenly anxious to make this horrible sound _stop_. I stab into her chest several times and the sound finally ends.

Her eyes, I notice, are still wide – but now they are empty, devoid of all life. Blood ran down her chin and her shirt she wore, a mustard yellow one, is drenched in blood. I gulp and stare at the body of the girl. I cannot even remember her name. Something with an M? Or was it an N? I cannot remember. I know the boy from her District called her name through the Training Centre a few times.

I am rooted to the spot, staring at the body of the girl I just killed. I think I might have held my breath for a while as well. I shake it off, afraid someone might come and stab me in the back or cut my throat open while I stare stupidly at a corpse.

A boy stumbles past me, tripping, catching his footing, tripping again. He breathes loudly, with a weird whistling sound. His neck is red, so I guess that someone tried to strangle him. I get the bloodied dagger back into a frontal grip and stride after the boy. I don't even have to run. He is too weakened already to move very fast.

In a insane moment I start laughing hysterically. His head whips around very fast, but not fast enough to see my dagger move. I drive it deep inside his back and twist it around. It is awful to know how easy this is, killing people. How easily a knife penetrates the body, cutting through the soft tissue, smashing bones. I stab the boy three more times before my dagger hangs limply at my side. Once more I am staring at a corpse. This time I cannot even remember the boy at all. There was nothing remarkable about him.

This time spacing out almost costs me my life.

In a flash I lie on the ground and someone sits on my stomach. A boy, I dimly realise.

"That was _my_ kill, bitch!" the boy hisses at my while his hands lock around my throat and cut off my airways. I struggle, but he is physically stronger and he is heavier than I am. I see spots dancing in front of my eyes.

No!

It cannot end this way!

I want to go home again!

And yet... I feel my consciousness slowly slip away. The boy grins nastily.

And then he is gone, air rushes into my lungs, I cough angrily. How could I have let myself get so distracted that I missed someone approaching me?

It won't happen again, I vow. I cannot let myself be this affected by killing someone, not now at least. Later, when I am back home, surrounded by my family. Then I can fall apart.

I look over to my right where I can hear the sounds of a struggle.

Cato has the boy pinned to the ground and slides his blade inside his victim. He dies so fast, he does not even make a sound.

"Thanks!" I say to Cato. He just nods at me and runs back into the frenzy. I gather my wits and stand back up from the ground, not bothering to pat down my clothes to free them of some of the dirt stuck to them. I bend down to pick up my dagger, reverse the grip again, and walk toward the Cornucopia. I want that bow and arrow now.

No-one gets into my way, and no-one comes up behind me.

Just as I am about to bend down to pick up the bow, I see movement inside the Cornucopia. I narrow my eyes, leave the bow where it is – it's not as if someone else will manage to collect it while my back is turned, since there is not really anyone left worth worrying about... most have turned tail and fled long since – and go inside the Cornucopia.

I see her before she notices that I am there: The girl from District 9, Lyra – I only remember her name because I liked the sound of it... maybe I'll name my daughter Lyra one day?

She squeaks and tries to crawl away. I let her inch outside, then I lunge at her. I grab her by her jacket and force her on her tiptoes. Then I slam her against the Cornucopia, hard. She looks stunned. Good. Maybe she won't look so horrified then.

The grip on the dagger is switched to frontal, the I stab her in her stomach with the tip pointing up. I hope to hit her lung, or even her heat, to make it quick. I stab her twice more, to be sure.

When I let go of her, her eyes close and she slides down to the ground.

Then it is over. The only ones left are my allies and I. I skip over to them, as if nothing was wrong or bothering me at all. I even giggle when Cato and Marvel try being cool and high-five. Cato even whoops. Clove and I arrive at the same time and

Zoe brings the boy from District 12 with her – something I did not expect at all.

Yes, he is pretty strong... but I cannot see him being useful for anything but carrying luggage.

"It's fine!" she shouts. "He can help us find the girl from his District and he's strong!"

"You sure?" Cato asks. He looks pretty mad.

"Yeah." Zoe answers with a grin.

"And here I thought you were in love with her..." Clove grins at him with a glint in her eyes.

"I am." the boy answers. "But somehow I still don't want to die, not even for Katniss." he looks down. "Only one can win. So... I guess I'd rather join you than tramp around alone and get killed early on. Why not join forces? Without me you'll never find Katniss. I know her and I know how she operates."

Cato shrugs. I don't know how I feel about this. I am sure he only sides with us so he can cross us later. But until we find Katniss, his girl, he might be useful. I still wonder how she managed to score so high... she might have some special ability. Something we might have a hard time figuring out alone.

"I'm for it." Marvel says. Slowly the others nod.

"I'm Peeta." the boy says.

"We know." drawls Clove. "You're the Lover-Boy, tragically in love with Katniss Everdeen since forever – and now you will never have a life together, because only one Tribute can survive." she laughs cruelly and turns around. "Let's gather some weapons and go hunt. The Gamemakers will want to collect the bodies."

I run back to the Cornucopia, trying not to look at all the bodies around me, and snatch up bow and arrows.

"I told you. Show them how good you are and you will get a reward." Marvel drawls when he sees my new bow. I grin at him.

"This will make matters far easier!" I smile winningly and twist a strand of my beautiful hair around my fingers. I notice Peeta give my weapons a calculating look... I wonder why.

-##-##-

We've been tramping through this stupid forest for ages.

Following Thresh, the huge guy from District 11, into the corn field somehow seemed like a bad idea, even to Cato, and he apparently is as mad as they come. He keeps yelling and shouting at indistinct intervals alerting the entire area to our presence. Should another Tribute be close-by, he or she at ample time to flee whenever Cato started shouting for no reason other than shouting suddenly.

Clove didn't even flinch when he did that. I assume she knows him from before... maybe they trained together or something like that.

We've returned to the Cornucopia several times already, taking new supplies with us such as food and water. And Clove already managed to deplete her daggers twice. She tries to catch rabbits to eat. And she's not very good at it. Besides loosing weapons she accomplished nothing so far.

The saddest part: The night has not even fallen yet. If she keeps this up, she'll be out of weapons pretty soon.

"Stop wasting throwing knifes, Clove." Zoe tells her out of the blue.

"I am trying to catch some meat!" Clove defends angrily.

"You've not been very good at it so far." Zoe shoots back immediately.

"Wanna give it a try yourself?" Clove yells. Her temper is just as bad as Cato's, it seems.

"I'd be just as bad at it." Zoe admits calmly.

"Katniss is probably eating rabbit right now." Peeta mumbles. Clove's angry stare shoots in his direction.

"Oh?" she asks sweetly. It sounds dangerous, somehow.

"Yeah." Peeta continues as if Clove didn't look close to putting one of her knifes into his throat. He shrugs a little and smiles embarrassedly. "She's pretty good at laying traps. And she can hunt."

Clove's glare intensifies and Peeta looks away.

"I would know one of her traps immediately." he says while looking up into the trees.

"Now, _that_ is something I can work with." Clove says sweetly and – finally – puts her knifes away. Zoe gives Peeta a big smile. Somehow he managed to distract Clove and change her mind. Wow. He's not even half as useless as I thought he would be.

And this Katniss can hunt? I really hope she's not a vindictive bitch who will use her skills to lay traps for her fellow Tributes... something I am sure Clove would do without thinking twice.

Luckily Marvel is not starved for meat yet. Otherwise he might accidentally show Cato and Clove, who had spend all their time in the Training Centre throwing knifes or training with swords instead of learning something they had no prior knowledge about, how to create a good trap. I don't want them even more dangerous than they already are. And if push comes to shove I might need to use traps to take them down... I would hate for them to recognize the danger before it's too late.

I hate what this "Game" turns me into. I refuse to believe that I was this person before Capitol-guy drew my name out of the Reaping-Ball.

Slowly night falls. It still takes a while before the anthem starts playing and the Fallen are announced. We did quite a few of them in.

For once Cato is quiet. Maybe he pays them some respect... they were only children, condemned to die because of a rebellion that ended 74 years ago. Non of our parents played a part in this rebellion and yet we, today's children, are being punished for it. 23 will die in the Games, each year.

"Let's go back to the Cornucopia." Zoe says after she muttered darkly about Louis, the boy from her District. She told me that she could never stand him. She knew him from training, back at her home in District 4 – he always cried and was seemingly afraid of his own shadow.

"Not much of a Tribute in him." she had said, her voice void of any and all emotion.

Cato snorted angrily when Zoe asked to go back to the Cornucopia. "No." he shoots her down resolutely. "We could still catch one of them." And so we troop on. It is cold in the darkness and I am ever so happy to not be alone somewhere in this forest, possibly without any supplies to keep me warm.

Dawn is not far away when I realise that Cato's wish will come true after all. Someone lit a fire in the darkness. Not very clever, but then... I am hunting, not being hunted. If someone is helpful enough to announce their position in the darkness I won't complain.

"Hey..." I say in a whisper. "There's a light up ahead."

Clove and Zoe start snickering when I say that.

"Seriously?" Peeta asks with something like wonder in his voice. "Who'd be stupid enough to start a fire in the dark?"

"Maybe it's your girlfriend." Clove says snidely. She crosses her arms over her chest and glares at Peeta. She cannot stand him, she told me. She thinks he is to calm, to confident and not afraid enough of us others.

"No. Katniss would never be this stupid. She's most likely hidden herself by now, preferably up in some tree." Peeta answers Clove's remark, his voice is calm and he keeps his eyes locked with hers, unflinchingly. I can't believe this is the guy I laughed at when he fell off the monkey-bars back at the Training Centre.

We sneak closer to the light up ahead.

A girl is sitting by it under the canopy of a tall tree and nodded off. Her head lolled to the side and all in all she looks very uncomfortable in her awkward sleeping position. She does have a backpack, though whatever was in there cannot have been of much use to keep her warm at night without a fire. I wonder why she didn't try to find some sort of a cave before starting it.

She is really fast asleep. She doesn't hear us coming closer, complete with twigs snapping under our feet and Cato mumbling in his insane way.

She only wakes up when Cato is practically standing on top of her. He lifts his sword high, ready to bring it down on her. I cannot see her face, but I hear her scream shrilly. The sword swings down and she falls quiet. The way her body twitched when the steel connected with her flash will surely haunt me forever, as will the eyes of the three kids whose lives I took a while ago.

I remember my role, that I am still live on TV. I must act as though I enjoy being here.

I laugh, hysterical once again, and imitate the girls high-pitched scream just before the sword swung down. "Her face! Hilarious!" tears run down my cheeks – they are not from laughing, though. Hopefully no-one will notice. Marvel joins me in my laughter, but he does not sound as hysterical as I do. Zoe grins a little and Clove smirks. Laughing we walk away from the bleeding girl. I can hear air wheezing in and out of her punctured lung and I smell her blood. It is a wonder I didn't puke. The cannon has not sounded so far.

"It's been five minutes. Why has the cannon not sounded yet?" Cato asks, his patience at an end already. He gets angry so very easily. He is like the dragons from the fairy-tails my mother read to me when I was small: One prod at the wrong time and Cato would explode in a great shower of sparks and flames.

"Maybe she's still alive... it might take her some time to kick the bucket." Zoe says into the sullen silence. It sound horrible, the way she said it. I feel sorry for the girl, who lies alone by the still burning fire, bleeding and probably suffocating on her own blood.

"We won't go before the cannon sounds and she's properly dead!" Cato yells. I flinch at his volume. His face went red in his bout of anger.

"Hey, Lover-Boy!" Clove calls. "Why don't you go and finish her? So far you've been pretty useless." she sends Peeta a mean little smile.

"Yeah, whatever." Peeta answers and turns to go back to the girl by the fire. I remember her name, Jordyn. I talked with her very briefly on a break when we stood next to each other while waiting from the boys from our Districts to join us. She has an older brother back at home in District 8. He was the one to take care of her after their parents died in a fire at the factory they worked in. I hope no-one noticed me spacing out again...

Shortly after Peeta left to go back the cannon finally goes off. Her suffering is over, at least.

"As soon as we find his little girlfriend, we kill him." Cato whispers.

"Why do you think I brought him along?" Zoe whispers back and sends a look Cato's way. He snorts. I grin as broadly as I can manage, considering what just happened, and Clove cleans her fingernails with one of her throwing knifes.

When Peeta comes back, he looks like nothing happened.

"Lover-Boy!" I greet him enthusiastically. "Well done! Now... if we could find your girlfriend this day would be even better than it has been so far!" I grin even wider than before.

"Katniss is long since gone. I told you, she knows how to hide. Without me, you'll never find her." he pushed past me, his face completely blank.

I see Marvel roll his eyes just before he follows Peeta in the undergrowth. "Sure, Lover-Boy. Just make sure we'll find her soon." he shouts after the boy. Marvel seems even more put-out with Peeta's general existence than Clove.

"Yeah." Peeta calls over his shoulder. "As soon as I see one of her traps I'll let you know."

Clove, Zoe and I laugh. If I were at home, their banter would be really funny. Here, though, it merely allows me to release some tension. I don't feel quite as ill anymore, not like I have to empty my stomach any second.

"Let's head back to the Cornucopia." Cato says suddenly. I perk up, already dreaming of catching a few hours of sleep. "We still need to go through all our new stuff." I manage not to look pained. I am tired, hungry and somewhat cranky. But I have to admit: We have to know what was in all those backpacks and crates.

"And sort it all. Weapons, food, water and whatever else might be hidden in all those backpacks and grates." Clove agrees with my silent thoughts. I nod along. I still have a smile plastered on my face – I really, really am glad that I practised smiling.

It takes us almost two days to go through all of it. It is a lot – and most of it is useful. Peeta still keeps eyeing my bow and the gleaming arrows in its pretty quiver.

He doesn't talk all that much. I guess he knows what we plan to do. To kill him as soon as Katniss is caught.

We put all our supplies in a big heap in front of the Cornucopia. We won't be hungry or cold while in the arena and will not have to worry about ammunition and weapons.

"Now that this is settled, let's go hunt again." I say. I miss my family, my home... I want this to be over with.

Which is the reason we are wandering through the forest again. We still don't want to search the field. Seeing anything in there is close to impossible and Thresh seemed so confident that we are all convinced that it might be possible that not Thresh, but all of us could loose our lives in the field. We'll keep Thresh for last, for now, that is.

Peeta noticed several of his girl's traps. They are ingenious, very easy to build with little to no supplies needed. She could live in here for years without starving. She also leaves no tracks behind... Peeta has a hard time estimating when Katniss build those traps.

"Do you smell this?" Zoe asks and stops while looking to the right.

"Smoke." I say, excited. We turn and run toward the smell. Whoever started this fire will not live much longer. Each Tribute less in the Games means a step closer to going home.

We run for a few minutes, jumping over roots and ducking under low branches. Zoe almost slips on some moss. Then I see her. Katniss Everdeen.

"There she is!" I yell. "Lover-Girl!" Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire, sits in a pond, submerged to her chest. She takes one look at our approaching group and scrambles for the shore. Then she runs – I see her uneven gait, a slight hobble. She's wounded. I cannot believe our luck!

Katniss reaches a tall tree and starts climbing up. She's fast. "Faster!" Clove screams and speeds up. She pulls ahead of us, but I can already tell that Clove won't make it to the tree in time.

I ready an arrow to shoot Katniss out of the tree, and try just that as soon as I stop beneath the canopy of the tree – and miss her completely. It must be the nerves. Normally I am pretty accurate.

Clove hisses like a cat and throws a knife. It does not fly high enough, though. Katniss is too far up for her to reach... the knife comes back down and luckily gets stuck in a branch instead of hitting one of us.

"Give it here!" Cato demands and takes the bow and an arrow from me. He aims at the girl in the tree – for a moment I think that he might actually be able to hit Katniss – but he misses even worse than I did. He throws the bow down while grunting angrily and starts climbing up himself, probably intend on throwing Katniss out of the tree, but the branch he tries to stand on is too thin to hold Cato's weight. It snaps and Cato crashes down again.

Suddenly we hear laughter from up above... Katniss. "Maybe you'd have a better chance throwing up your sword!" She seems really amused for some reason, as if she wasn't stuck in a tree with us standing down here, intend on killing her the first chance we will get.

Cato howls as soon as her words register in his brain and Katniss laughs some more.

"Let her be." Peeta speaks up. We all turn to him, angered. He lifts his hands when he sees our faces. "She can't stay up there forever. She's bound to run out of food and water sooner or later. We can still kill her when she climbs down." That sound very reasonable. I cannot come up with anything better short of Cato hacking at the tree with his great big sword for a few weeks in the hopes of cutting it down. Cato turns and looks up the tree again. He glares fiercely. Katniss leans against the thick tree trunk and a smile graces her face. He opens her rucksack and pulls a rope out. Very deliberately she slings it around the trunk and ties herself to the tree. She probably did that before.

Zoe has started to collect firewood and so I start unpacking some food. There is no use in glaring at a tree. Cato plunges his sword into the ground and sits down. It must infuriate him worse than anything else that Katniss got away again. He was mad at her since he had heard the score the Gamemakers had given her.

"Who do you want to kill once Lover-Girl is gone?" Clove asks once the fire is burning merrily and we all sit comfortable. I crinkle my brow. _No-one_, I think but don't say anything.

"The guy from 11." Cato murmurs. "I don't think anyone else besides him stands any real chance to harm anyone of our group." I see the quick glance toward Peeta, though. Peeta won't see the announcement of Thresh's death. He'll be gone first.

"We still smoking him out?" Zoe asks while chewing on an apple.

"Absolutely. I won't go into that field. It's sure to be a death trap!" Cato throws back at her. She as seen the glance at Peeta as well and raises one eyebrow in answer. The plan is made then. As soon as Lover-Girl crawls out of her tree, Lover-Boy's life is over as well.

We talk well into the night. When I finally fall asleep, it is an uneasy sleep, without dreams but full of terror.

-##-##-

As soon my eyes snap open I know my life is over.

I will never see my parents again, or Leo, Anabelle and Lavinia.

We never noticed the danger over our heads. Katniss must have seen it, or heard it, during the night, the humming of little insect wings.

Jacker-trackers. A whole nest.

It hit the ground next to my head with a weird tearing sound. Zoe screams before I do.

"MARVEL!" I yell in fear.

He doesn't answer, not that I would have, were the roles reversed. Less competition, and he won't be the one to kill the other Tribute from his District. Nothing better can happen than the other one from your District dying by another's hands.

The tracker-jackers sting me over and over. The pain is terrible, mind-numbing and horrifying.

I long to die, for someone to end my misery and free me from my broken, poisoned body.

My body shuts down slowly. I see terrible things, hallucinate. Monsters come to get me, the children I killed come back from the grave. Their bodies are rotting already, decaying and full of worms. The tears in my eyes burn like acid.

I stopped screaming, my throat is swollen shut.

No oxygen can reach my lungs anymore. My muscles are cramped and stiff already, much like an early _rigor mortis_.

I black out slowly. The blinking spots I saw when this boy tried to strangle me at the Cornucopia return. There are so many that I cannot see the rotting fingers of the dead children anymore. A small mercy.

And my last.

My last, fleeting thoughts are for my family: _"I am sorry I could not come back. But we knew before I left, didn't we? Girls have even less of a chance than boys. I will never truly leave you, though. I love you..."_

Besides my grieving family no-one will remember me. I was Glimmer, from District 1. No-one would be able to recognize me anymore.


End file.
